WBY - Locherby
by wildblueyonder6
Summary: John, Sam & Dean. AU. John is the Stable Master of Locherby back in the days of castles, kings, queens, and young princes. Dean is the heir to the throne of Locherby and Sam his younger brother. It is difficult to be a teenage prince – to walk the line between boy and young man. Luckily, Stable Master John is on the job. These are fictional characters and this will contain parental


Title: WBY – Locherby

John, Sam & Dean. AU. John is the Stable Master of Locherby back in the days of castles, kings, queens, and young princes. Dean is the heir to the throne of Locherby and Sam his younger brother. It is difficult to be a teenage prince – to walk the line between boy and young man. Luckily, Stable Master John is on the job. These are fictional characters and this will contain parental type discipline. Don't read if you don't like.

XXX

John wakes to the sweet smell of hay and the stronger smell of horse and manure. It's a good smell he thinks. Honest if humble. He figures at his age _and with his education_**,** he reminds himself, he should be on his own, living on his own parcel of land instead of sleeping above the Queen's royal horses. But John chose his path years ago opting for horse over hearth and it's been a good choice for the most part.

The Queen is fair, the food is good and due to John's management and eye for horseflesh, theirs is the finest stable in all of Locherby. His place above the stables is little more than a room, but it has all he needs, a horsehair bed, a small stand and a smaller lantern. It's the only lantern he allows in the barn and he uses it prudently. He's seen a barn fire and it is something he never wants to see again. As usual, he's up before the stable boys and that's fine too. His boys know their master and their jobs. The horses will be watered and fed within the hour.

John stretches, yawns and pulls his sleep shirt off and a tunic down over his belly. He then pulls on a pair of breeches and well-worn boots and heads down the loft to take a piss. The horses might use their stalls for that but John is a man and while he's not at all embarrassed, he'd sooner find an out of the way place to do his morning constitutional. There is a privy but John doesn't need that so he heads off for some privacy behind the trees, away from the barn. He pisses and for something that is an everyday occurrence it actually feels pretty good. Maybe he is just in a good mood. It could be because Belle, his favorite mare is due to foal any day now. It could be because the day is young with the promise of sun. Then again, it could just be because this life. **His** life is exactly how he wants it to be.

Just John and his horses.

There is a snicker from ahead of him, the giggle of pre-adolescent boy and the slightly lower tone of a young teen.

Sam and Dean.

Prince Sam and Prince Dean.

John sighs. So much for his perfect day.

John does up his ties with as much dignity as he can muster and then speaks to the trees in front of him, "Are you two ready for your lessons this early?"

Sam pops his head out from behind a tree and John can see his brother's arm as the older boy pulls him back.

"My Lords," he says formally, "If you would like an escort back to the stables or perhaps your chambers, I will be happy to do that."

Dean steps out from behind he tree followed by his younger brother and their wolf hound Roland, "We neither need an escort nor expect one Master Morgan."

John almost laughs but manages to stop himself. It won't due to laugh at Dean, no matter how pompous the boy may seem. Besides, John is fond of the boy. Of both of them, they are just high-spirited. Like the colts he breaks.

"And Her Majesty? Is she aware of your early morning escapades?" John allows just a tiny bit of growl in his voice. They are his Princes but they are children. He owes his fidelity to them and his Queen. But their mother has had little experience raising her sons. Since the King died, she has had her hands full with ruling Locherby and keeping her kingdom safe. The boys have grown up with knights and swords and training to be future kings. But they are sometimes lacking in common sense. They are often lacking in manners. Not at Court. At Court both Dean and Sam are the epitome of young princes but in the woods and at John's stable, they are just boys.

Boys who often find themselves in trouble. As Master of the Stable, John is quite capable of handling difficult stallions and irritated mares. He can certainly handle a few boys.

"They are not escapades." Dean blusters.

"No, they are not," Sam agrees, "We are on a hunt."

John looks a little closer and sure enough both boys are indeed carrying bows. Having Roland with them is normal, the old dog is brave and smart and he follows them everywhere, but if they have bows, they are serious about hunting. Hunting is a sport for them, for some other people it is their livelihood. Luckily for the folks of Locherby, there are no royal hunting grounds; the villagers can take what they need. It is one of the things that endear the royals to the commoners. That and the fact that Her Majesty has ruled Locherby well and justly.

Her children sometimes though…John lets his mind wander a bit.

"And does the Huntsman know you two are about?"

Sam drops his head just a bit but Dean juts out his chin, "There is no need for him to know. We do not need to justify our actions to the Huntsman."

John knows Bobby Singer; the man would not allow the princes to hunt on their own. It is true the game in the woods is theirs for the taking but there are wild boar, red stag and large gray wolves. Any of which could kill a boy, royal or no.

John grimaces at the thought of what a wild boar can do to a man. He'd been there the day the boys' father had died after having been run through by one of the beasts. It haunts John sometimes. He'd been unable to save his King. The King had been one best of friends. Unlikely ones perhaps, but friends just the same. They'd grown up riding horses and hunting in these woods. They'd shared boyhood adventures and young man conquests. John always knew that his prince would eventually to become King and the future King always knew John would not. It didn't change their friendship or the trouble they would sometimes leave in their wake. It was the King who made sure that John was Stable Master after his coronation. John would never be a knight, he didn't have the lineage, but he would always have a home at Locherby.

The king had been a good king, a better man, a loyal friend and a doting but firm father with his boys. Sam and Dean had never been spoiled little princes.

John returns back to his conversation with Dean. The boy has obviously ignored the Huntsman's standing rules, "And that, My Lord, is not exactly accurate is it?" To call Dean a liar would be foolish but he is also not going to be intimidated by a thirteen-year-old boy. Dean's face pales a bit at being called on the untruth, his freckles standing out sharply in the mottled shade of the forest, then he blushes at his lie.

But Dean draws his shoulders back, "It is accurate enough."

Sam looks at his older brother, eyes wide.

John had taught both boys to ride when they were two; he has always been a tough Master. Tough enough to make Sam a little worried at his brother's brazen statement.

John mulls it around in his head. He knows Sam and Dean. The boys have excelled in riding and have learned their way around horses from the ground up. Neither boy has ever had his pony tacked up and ready to ride like most royals have. Both have actually mucked stalls. Caring for their ponies is as important now as caring for their kingdom will be in the future. That was something His Majesty had made very clear early on and John drove that message home with surprising regularity. Because the Queen trusts John, she has allowed him a certain level of familiarity with her boys, both because he is good at what he does and because he really does care about her sons.

To call John an uncle would not be correct, but despite his common blood, John has an interest in the young princes upbringing. They are his best friend's children. John thinks fondly of the King. He'd died when the boys were six and ten. A hunting accident of all things, he'd been run through by a wild boar. John had been there but had been unable to save the man. The King's death had been difficult for John and as the man lay dying in his arms, John had vowed to watch over his boys and treat them as his own. It had never been a problem – he cared for Sam and Dean as his princes but had always loved them as his boys.

He sighs, "Dean, you and I and young Sam there, no darn well that you are not allowed to hunt on your own. What kind of example are you setting for your brother?"

"I'm teaching him how to be a prince and how to make his own decisions."

"No, you are teaching him to disobey the Huntsman and his mother and your Queen." There is no need to remind Dean of his father's death. The boy had been inconsolable when the King had died.

Dean furrows his brows. "My Queen has never expressly forbidden me to hunt these woods, with or without the Huntsman."

John arches a brow in Dean's direction. It is useless to argue with the boy. He knows exactly what is expected of him and exactly what his mother wants. However, he is thirteen and testing authority at every angle. If he can split hairs and justify to himself that this hunting expedition is sanctioned, well then he will do it.

"My Lord, it would be in everyone's best interest if you and your brother go back home. " John waggles a brow at the young prince, his meaning very clear. "You are also due at the stables in a little over an hour. Hunting would certainly mean you will be late. I don't tolerate lateness." John lets the threat hang in the early morning air. He means it. He has always meant it. His time is valuable and while he doesn't have a kingdom to run, he does have a stable to run. A mare about to foal. Two young stallions to geld and two royal pains in the arses to teach.

"Dressage today, My Lords." John nods his head at both boys and hears the audible groan from Sam. Dean is able to keep himself quiet but he frowns just the same. Boy boys prefer jumping to dressage. Both are necessary, but a prince at battle needs to be able to control his horse and while dressage may seem boring, it is based on war.

Due to their father and mother's wise leadership, war has been something Locherby has avoided though the years, but the threat is always present and it is John's job to prepare these two ruffians, no matter how young.

Once again, Dean puffs his chest out, "We will be there at our scheduled time Master Morgan, but…"and the boy makes it plain that he thinks he is calling the shots, "not a moment sooner."

John tries not to smile, "Certainly, till then." He tips his head in the general direction of the princes and turns back toward the stables.

They have less than an hour on their own, even if they disobey John and decide to hunt, he doubts that very much hunting can bed done between now and then. How much trouble can two little boys get into in such a short time?

Apparently, a lot.

XXX

John has checked on Belle, rounded on the other horses and made sure the colts are a full field away from the fillies. There are no unwanted pregnancies in John's stable.

It's almost an hour before he realizes that neither Dean nor Sam have showed up. It could be Dean trying a power play, but that is not his style. The boy can be brazen and at times difficult, but he's usually not downright disobedient. Then again…

John opts for a quick ride through the woods. If the boys are on their way, he will meet them. If they are at the castle, well, he will drag them to the stables, if they are still hunting, he will take away their bows and drag them to the stables and make their riding lesson a living hell. It is a win, win, win situation for John Morgan.

He saddles up Volt, a lively mare with a quick temper who could use a little one on one time with John. It is just a prudent time management, he figures, work the mare and look for his princes at the same time.

The Queen prefers gray horses and because of that, there are many grays at the stable, but she prefers the best horses over any color so John has free rein on buying and breeding who and what he wants. Volt was bred here at Locherby's stables. She is just three and a bright, copper chestnut. She may eventually be bred to Magnus, their foundation stallion who is gray and so she may produce a gray foal. But if not, John isn't worried. She is spectacular, if a little flighty but with proper training and discipline, she will make an extraordinary mount for either Sam or Dean.

It is the thought of the boys hunting in the woods alone, which encourages him to urge the mare forward at a canter. She is more than ready for the challenge of a run through the woods and tugs hard at the bit in her mouth, struggling for dominance with the man on her back.

It will be a futile struggle and if Volt doesn't quite get it now, she will get it soon.

Through his seat and hands and a gentle but firm voice, he brings the mare back under control. She tosses her head in subtle rebellion, but under John's guidance and skilled riding, she allows herself to be directed through the woods. From the distance he hears a howl and then the low growling of a dog. It escalates quickly to a familiar sound of canine fighting. A dog holding something at bay. It sounds like Roland's low throaty growls. He's known the old hound since he was a pup; he'd been the one to give the wriggling gray wolfhound pup to Dean when the boy was two. The King had approved with a grin and since then the Prince and the dog had been inseparable. If Roland is fighting, there is trouble afoot. John pivots the mare on his inside leg and turns her in direction of the fight. The snarling increases and then there is a yelp and then silence. Now, John has the filly all out in a gallop through the woods, she is light on her feet and he helps guide her expertly through the trees. There is an overturned tree, which Volt navigates as easily as he has the woods, over jumping it by at least a foot.

His heart almost stops when he gets to a small clearing. He can see Sam on the ground, cradling old Roland. And there is blood, far too much blood to be good. There is a moment's flashback to the King, gutted by the boar, squealing it's own death with John's lance through its chest. He can see Dean; bow in hand as a huge gray wolf stalks the boy. Dean has his bow drawn and in a well-schooled move, lets an arrow fly. It hits the wolf and it yelps, but it doesn't stop its forward movement toward the prince.

John leaps of the horse before she even stops, flinging her reins over her head to ground tie her. He can hear her panicking behind him. Horses don't like wolves, she is young and inexperienced, He hears more than sees her step on the reins he dropped on the ground, knows she rears against the unfamiliar pain in her mouth. He also hears the snap of the reins as the leather breaks.

Volt doesn't leave though. She has been trained to stay with her rider.

John rushes to Sam. John impatiently grabs the bow and arrow from Sam, and fires the arrow quickly and effortlessly, His shot is true and the arrow hit's the wolf's chest, between ribs. The wolf takes another wobbling step and falls, not ten feet from Dean. John stands looking for other wolves.

He yells to Dean, "Are there any more?"

"No," the boy says and although he sounds okay, John can hear the slight tremor in his voice. No pack, that's good. But it is probably why this particular wolf had been so bold. A lone rogue wolf can even more dangerous than a pack.

John turns his attention to Sam, "Sam, lad, are you okay?" So much blood. The boy turns tearful eyes at John, "Yes, I'm find but Roland…" He can't finish the statement. John notices the old wolfhound is bleeding, his shoulder has taken the impact of the wolf's teeth. An inch or two more and it would have been his throat. "In my saddle bag there is treated leather and packing for wounds, bring it here." Sam runs to the mare, stopping before he scares her any more and carefully but hurriedly retrieves the supplies.

John yells to Dean. "Are you hurt?"

"No." Comes the reply.

Sam is at Roland's side in a moment, handing the dressings to John. "Easy boy," John's voice is soft and soothing. He applies the packing and the leather around Roland's shoulder, ties it tight. The old dog whimpers slightly but otherwise takes the additional pain stoically. John knows the old dog would have given his life for the boys. "Here, Sam. Push down hard. If we can stop the bleeding, and if there is no infection, Roland might make it." Sam solemnly does as he is told. "That's the best we can do for the moment."

John stands and walks over to the wolf, a cursory look tells him it's dead then he heads to Dean.

"So this is how you listen to me?" His voice is low and gravelly.

The boy is shaken but not cowed, "I told you I was hunting. I told you."

John roars then, "And I told you to go back!"

Dean takes a step away from John, as if he suddenly realizes that John really means business.

"You have no right to order me around, I am the Prince of Locherby. The heir of…", Dean is interrupted by John as he grabs the boy sharply by the shoulder and half drags him back to where Volt is standing nervously. He picks up the reins off the ground, they are useless for riding at the moment but more than practical for something else.

He spins Dean around and using the reins doubled up as a make shift strap, lays a scathing stripe down the boy's breech clad arse. It has to hurt; John knows it does because he'd been whipped the very same way as a boy before. Dean yelps, a very undignified sound but he doesn't cry.

"You can't whip me!" Dean yells, trying to twist out of John's grip. "I'm the PRINCE."

John brings another lash of leather down, "Well, you are your father's son, I can't argue with that. But I don't plan on burying another member of your family simply because they are hardheaded and stubborn." John whacks another time, "Besides, this isn't without precedent, My Lord." He leans on the title; "I remember spanking a certain little boy when he was all of six and your father was around to approve of it!"

Dean wails then, "But I was six, not thirteen. I'm almost a man, I'm heir to the throne…"

John brings the reins down several more times, knows they tag Dean's hips. "What you apparently are heir to is your father's bad judgment when it comes to hunting!"

Dean cries then and John isn't sure if it the mention of his father or the pain in his ass but he smacks him one more time for good measure and then stops.

Through this all, Sam hasn't moved from his position in front of the dog, he is still diligently applying pressure to Roland's wound.

John turns to Dean, "Dean, you hold Roland. Sam, come here."

Sam blinks hard at John but Dean is already on his way over to take over dog duty and Sam quickly comes to John's side.

The boy is nine, too young to be licked with the leather, but that doesn't mean he doesn't deserve a spanking. And while John is sure that Dean was the instigator of this entire fiasco, he is just as sure that Sam did little to stop it. He disobeyed John too. John bends the lad at his waist and spanks his bottom hard with his hand. It doesn't take to long for Sam to cry and when he does, John stops, gives the boy a nod and then sends him back to Roland. John turns away from both boys, knots the reins back onto Volt's bridle and leads the horse over to the dog.

"Sam in the front, Dean behind. I'll put Roland over Dean's lap and I will lead you two home."

"I don't want to ride, Master John." That's Sam. He rubs his warmed bottom; it is quite obvious why he doesn't want to ride.

"Oh well, I'm not giving you an option. Your dog needs to be treated because you and your brother don't seem to be able to follow simple directions. Roland is not walking with his shoulder shredded and apparently neither of you are trustworthy enough to go home on your own."

Dean starts to say something, but thinks better of it when he catches the glare that John sends in his direction. Instead he mounts Volt and gingerly sits his sore arse in the saddle. John hands over the dog. Volt skitters a bit, while she knows dogs, they typically don't ride draped over her saddle. Dean quiets her with a soft voice and for the first time all morning, John has some pleasant thoughts on the boy. He then boosts Sam up in front Roland. The dog looks oddly comfortable on Volt, as if he likes this new mode of travel.

John picks up the recently jury-rigged reins, the boy's bows and starts leading them back to the castle.

A quarter mile or so from the castle Dean carefully addresses John. "Master Morgan, may I take up the reins?" The boy has been quiet during the ride and it occurs to John that leading the princes through their castle like toddlers unable to ride might be embarrassing. They should be embarrassed, he thinks but not like this. He hands the reins over to Dean but continues to walk next to Volt. Once again, John is pleased to see how easily Dean controls the flighty filly, even with a sore butt and a hundred and fifty pound wolfhound across his lap.

Conversationally Dean asks quietly to both boys, "You know boys, your father would have been mad as hell to see you disobey the Huntsman and your mother by proxy. What do you think?"

Dean looks over at John, green eyes steely, "I think he would have whipped us harder than you did." Sam gasps from in front of Dean, whether it is the thought of a tougher spanking than he just received or the fact that his recently spanked bottom his a tender spot in the saddle, John isn't sure which.

John nods, "He might have, but he also would have been very proud."

Dean halts the mare with just a subtle shift in weight, "He would have?" He asks, sounding younger than his thirteen years.

John nods again, "Yes, Dean, he would have." His brown eyes land on Sam, "Sam, you stayed with your dog and followed your older brother's directions. Dean, you were very brave and calm. A hard thing to do with a wolf attacking you. You made sure that the wolf was focused on you. You protected your little brother. He would have been very proud." John waits a three beat, "I'm very proud."

Dean seems to be uncomfortable with the praise; "I was just watching out for my little brother, it didn't feel brave at the time."

John starts walking again, and Volt follows, "Bravery often doesn't."

"What do you think Sam?" Sam is only nine but he had adored his father. "I think Papa probably would have been very angry. And I don't feel like we did a very good job." He turns in the saddle, touches Roland's massive head, "I'm worried about Roland." Then he looks honestly at John, "But I don't much like getting spanked. I've heard that that some kingdoms have whipping boys. Why don't we have a whipping boy in Locherby? Lots of castles do." Sam doesn't sound particularly angry or demanding, he's just thinking out loud.

John laughs, "Some do, I guess, but that isn't the point of a thrashing. Having someone else take your licks, well, I've never seen the value of it. You need to learn your lessons yourself. Besides, how would you feel if some poor kid got his bottom roasted because of something you did?"

Sam looks at John, blushing red, "I would feel terrible. I never really thought of that. I was just…" Sam looks like he might cry again but he pulls himself together, "It was a dumb idea. I'm sorry."

"Well, if you were a poor boy from a poor family and didn't have enough food to eat, offering yourself in your Prince's stead for a lashing, might seem a good option. Good food, a good place to sleep, maybe money for your family. The boy who would chose such a job would be a pretty impressive kid. The prince who allowed it? Not so much."

"Well, I would never allow it." Sam sound positive on this, "I know that Dean is to be King, not I, but I think I could convince him to make sure that is never initiated here at Locherby."

Dean laughs brightly, "Never will little brother – I may not always be right but I would never do that."

They walk a few more beats, Volt a little calmer now that Roland hasn't tried to eat her.

"How do you two want to handle this? While I'm not comfortable lying to your mother, this particular episode will be very upsetting to her. She lost her husband and King to the Hunt and to know her boys almost met the same fate? Well, it will be very difficult. There is a wolf in the woods, dead with your combined arrows through it, the killing shot coming from Sam's bow. You can explain that you were hunting without proper escort, and between the two of you and brave Roland, you killed the wolf. You may find yourselves in trouble with the Huntsman and the Queen herself, but you will save her some anguish." He lets the story settle in the boys' heads, "Or you can tell her of my part in the kill and subsequent punishment for you both."

Dean sits a little straighter in the saddle, "We will tell the truth. My mother will be upset with our behavior and what she chooses to share with anyone else will be her decision. But we owe her that."

John nods approvingly, a slow smile on his face. The lad may make a fine king yet.

End.


End file.
